Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours
by Chrystel Malfoy-Potter
Summary: When Elrond was still a youngling, he met a baby dragon. When he grew and had three children of his own, he decided, with the blessing of his mother-in-law, to end the life of his wife. And if the dwarves were getting a bit to presumptuous, well, it's not his fault that dragons love gold.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own Lord of the Rings. Be it in book, audio or even video form. Although, I wish it so every night.

**AN**: Hi all! This is a little something that I thought up while I'm trying to write two Big Bang stories in the Merlin fandom (plus one one the crossover Big Bang and let's not forget my exams that I'm doing at the moment :X). It doesn't help that I have a lot of my friends in the LOTR fandom and I have a renewed interest to the thing now. ^^

So this little thingie is a lottery challenge where I choose a number for the main character and the prompt(s). I picked number 13 which was Elrond and asked for two random numbers in the prompts. One between 1 and 5 and the other between 10 and 17. I got "dirty rumors" and "something on fire". YAY!

Then, while talking to some friends on a LOTR forum, we cooked up this little monster which is total nonsense (while still following somewhat the story line of the Silmarillon). So purists, be wary.

So, hope you guys enjoyed it. And also? This will only be a oneshot, nothing more.

**PS**: The forum from where I got my idea is in French.

**Warning**: Monster, crime and plotting to kill someone. And nonsense … a lot of nonsense (I wrote this in my spare time and under two hours total).

**Word-Count**: 2,845

**Summary**: When Elrond was still a youngling, he met a baby dragon. When he grew and had three children of his own, he decided, with the blessing of his mother-in-law, to end the life of his wife. And if the dwarves were getting a bit to presumptuous, well, it's not his fault that dragons love gold.

* * *

**_Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours_**

Maedhros and Maglor, sons of Fëanor and Nerdanel, were not the most typical caregivers in Middle Earth. Yet, to atone for their mistakes towards Elwing and her people, caregivers and foster-parents they would be. It was only much later, after the battle done and the fleeing of Elwing over the ocean, and subsequently her transformation into a big white bird by Ulmo, did they realize what they had done.

They had forced a mother to be separated from her two sons, twins to be more precise, who had barely reached the tender age of thirty, which made them quite young in the eyes of elves. It was Maglor who had found the two elflings in a cave, no doubt put there to be protected from their now-deceased mother, and it was Maglor who convinced Maedhros to raise the _peredhels_ in their household. Not that it needed much convincing, Maedhros still owed him for saving his older brother from Morgoth.

So, the two brothers were not the typical foster-parents one could be accustomed too. As such, while raising the twins, they had forgotten to teach them what any female parent would have done for the children: teach them some common sense.

Which brings us to this little situation: Elrond staring straight into the yellow eyes of a _baby_ dragon. That's right, a Flesh-Eating, Fire-Breathing, Baby Dragon. Well, it was hurt too and looked hungry and thirsty and all of those little things that made the burgeoning Healer want to help the poor thing.

Elrond, at the time, had reached the age of fifty, half-way until he would be considered an adult, but still small enough that the Older Ones tended to overlook him. That meant that he had been raised on his foster-parents' tales of their encounter with Glaurung and all of that.

It didn't mean a thing for Elrond who just saw a small creature needing his help. Cautiously, he held out his hand to the reptile, murky-golden scales gleaming in the semi-darkness of the cave, much as he would do for a dog … or a puppy, amended Elrond in his thoughts to fit the analogy.

The dragon didn't scratch, bite or even do anything remotely dangerous as to what expected a dragon to do. Rather, it sniffed the open, childlike, hand using both its nostrils and tongue before giving a gentle lick on the palm.

Taking that as a sign, Elrond stepped closer to the dragon, slowly of course so that he wouldn't surprise it. The dragon did nothing.

Very soon, Elrond was petting the dragon on the head, making small croons and purrs come out from the pointy-teethed mouth.

"May I take a look at you, _lhûg_?" Elrond inquired gently. He had always done this before taking care of an animal, believing them to be quite intelligent despite their non-speaking status. Well, maybe the birds could be called air-headed, the dogs stubborn while cats were far to independent for his liking.

The dragon seemed to have understood the elfling, for it spread its wings wide open for Elrond to asses the damage done. It wasn't much, just a few scratches here and there, but they were serious enough to warrant the dragon some bed rest for the next couple of weeks. Which was what Elrond explained.

"I will bring you food, water and everything that you shall need. In exchange, you will have to stay in this cave for you cannon fly unless you wish to be killed." Elrond stated seriously, his small finger nagging at the dragon. "And on that subject," he continued, "I cannot keep calling you _it_ or _dragon_. Do you have a name or shall I give you one?"

The dragon, seemed appeased for some reason, just belched out two breaths of fire. Elrond took it as a sign that he could name the dragon.

"Hmm, since you appear male, unless such a mighty creature like you be a female?" The dragon shook his head, "then I shall call you, Smaug. Does that appeal to you, Winged-One?"

The dragon seemed to ponder a bit, before acknowledging the name with a large fireball, nearly singing Elrond's clothing to boot. "Careful now, how will I explain this to _Ada_ if I want to keep you a secret?" The _Peredhel_ whined slightly.

The dragon just looked smug about the fact. Just for that, Elrond made sure to bring only fruit and vegetables blended together to look like meat for revenge. And if he put a drop of his _gwanûr_'s special brand of spice, well it was only for the dragon to have something hot to eat.

Elrond decided that the dragon would be his first _dirty little secret_. The first among many that ruled his Half-Man heart, making it less pure that a Full-Elf one.

_— Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours: a saying that means "Help me and I'll help you." —_

The years passed by. Many years passed by as Elrond and Elros grew and married before having children. They had both chosen to which race they would belong to: Elrond for the First-Borns while Elros preferred to belong with the Second-Born. Both brothers regretted such a separation, but never begrudged each other's choice in the matter.

It had been also many years since Elrond had taken care of the dragon Smaug. After spending six months in each other's company, Smaug flew back from where he came from, but not before giving Elrond three scales off his back. With gestures and signs, Smaug explained that he now owed Elrond three favors and that the Half-Elf could summon him by burning one of his scales into a fire. Smaug would come running back to help him.

Even with little to no information about dragons, anyone could have guessed as to how mighty this gift was. Elrond carried the three scales, all of the golden with various shade of dirty-yellow in them, in a small leather pouch around his neck. He told anyone that asked that it was his good luck charm which no one begrudged him in times of war against Sauron beside the High King of the Nordor, Ereinion Gil-Galad.

Elrond had been tempted to use one of his favors with Smaug to help the elves gain an advantage, but he soon decided against it. After all, he received such a gift for his selfishness, the Ring of Power Vilya, the Ring of Air, was gifted to him as High King Gil-Galad feared that he would be dying soon. Not that Elrond was complaining of receiving one of the Three Rings, but he would have preferred Narya, the Ring of Fire, who had been entrusted to the Istari Mithrandir.

Oh well, he would bid his time until he would gather all three Rings of Power. Until then, he would rule over Imladris, the Last Homely House of the West of the Mountains, making a place of peace and learning. He soon married Celebrían, daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel, but it was not a marriage of love as it was often done in those days. Oh Celebrían loved him, that was true, but Elrond had never loved someone and doubted that he ever would.

Even so, he performed his marital duties and soon was the proud father of two sons: Elladan and Elrohir. Because of a medical mix-up, no one was quite sure who was the eldest and who was the youngest. It was no problem as both were raised as Heirs to Rivendell, which both boys truly enjoyed since they always shared everything between them.

Ninety years passed by before his daughter, Arwen Undómiel soon joined the ranks of the family, her birth a much anticipated event by her grandmother, Galadriel of the Golden Woods. Elrond couldn't be more proud of his brood, even if the mother, Celebrían, was soon growing to be more of a nuisance that a wife, but that was for later.

He burned his first scale that night. The little and dirtiest of the three, no bigger than his pinkie nail. Into the smoke of yellow-grey, he asked that Smaug "protect his children from any and all danger through the rest of their lives". The smoke took the shape of a dragon that roared before disappearing into the starlit sky. Elrond smiled at the knowledge that his children were safe and sound for the rest of their lives (be that they choose to join the First or Second Borns).

Life continued on with the exception of Celebrían becoming even more of a nag than Elrond could believe to be possible. She had grown spoiled over time since her mother was no longer there to restrain her. It was up to the point that even Elrond's parents-in-law were sending his pitying looks. Which lead to the missile in his hand.

_My dearest **ion**,_

_By the time you reach the end of this letter, you will accept my request without fail. My daughter, whom I can no longer recognize, has the sickness of the mind in which few elves have fallen to. If she had had better control, no doubt she would have kept her charming personality that you loved and still regret to let go._

Here Elrond had to snort since he had never, and would never, loved his **darling** wife. To fool even the Far-Seeing Galadriel is in exploit indeed. He turned back to the letter.

_There is no cure that can be found, even with the aid of the Valar themselves. All that you can do is find a way to end her life peacefully before she does something irreparable, such as killing one of your children without realizing it._

_I know that this is much to ask and that nothing would help recover your wife which is why I will gift you with the Ring of Power, Nenya, for your suffering. A ring cannot replace a warm body, but she will guide you in raising your children well. So long as Arwen, my beloved granddaughter, receives it on her wedding night, than it is yours until then._

_I leave the matter of disposing my now-dead daughter in any way you deem it to be. My only wish is that you stage it like an accident, for I do not want others to call you a Kin Slayer for something that is for the Greater Good._

_With the stars behind you,_

_Galadriel of Lothlórien_

Elrond pondered on such a letter. It was true that he had been raised by Maedhros and Maglor, so he knew the ire and distaste they received for being Kin Slayers. That did not mean that he wasn't interested in making his wife disappear. He was all for it, especially since there was a chance that his children were in danger. If nothing else, Elrond was extremely protective of his children.

So he thought and pondered and concocted many plans. It wasn't until he realized that his hand was resting on a small bag that he knew how he would kill his wife by staging it like an accident.

All that he needed to do, was to plan the perfect occurrence for the scene of the crime. Taking some parchment and quill, he began to write a long letter to his mother-in-law. It would seem that Celebrían was needed back at her place of birth. It would take some time to organize a trip, but time was what Elves had in abundance, so it was only a minor difficulty. Besides, wouldn't it be nice for the parents to see their daughter one last time before fate stuck and the Hall of Waiting called for the _fae_ of Celebrían?

That night, he burned the second smallest of scales, of a deep Topaz Yellow, that was as big as his fist. He murmured his wish into the yellow-grey smoke spiraling to the cloudless night. An echoing roar answered his prayer, a sound that none heard but him.

_— Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours: a saying that means "If you do me a favor, I'll do you one too." —_

The plan went without a hitch except for one small, _teensy-weensy_, detail. It wasn't a dragon that killed Celebrían but Orcs! Orcs that tortured her for days before his sons, now grow, tried their best to rescue her. And they nearly got killed in the process to boot!

Elrond was furious when he saw them return, before turning sad at the sight of a body covered in a cloth. Even if he had never loved Celebrían, he did like her and she had given him three wonderful children. He would miss her, as they had spent a good portion of their lives together.

Now, back to the matter of his sons. He had heard that the Orcs had killed both his wife and sons, yet here were the twins, slightly singed but perfectly safe in front of him. Sweeping the body of his wife off the horse's back, whom had carried her all the way, Elrond told them, "We will talk later as to how you survived. For now, I have to prepare her body for her pyre. Let someone check you at the House of Healing, for I will not loose one of you yet from even a small infection."

The grim and grimy men, for they could not be called boys, nodded before following their father a small portion of the way. They were miserable that their mother had passed away, for all children and mother share such a bond that would never go away, but it wasn't devastation. How could they since their mother wasn't really present while they were growing up? It was their _Ada_ who took care of them and Arwen, along with the hero Glorfindel and Counselor Erestor.

Still, they went to get checked out and help their father in any small way they could. They burnt the body on a pyre a week from the rescue attempt. Galadriel and Celeborn present as they had joined Elrond at Rivendell once they had heard of the attack. And if Galadriel slipped a small ring that shone invisibly like a star during the ceremony, well, that was nothing but to comfort her grieving son-in-law.

Much later, in the halls, the twins explained once more how they had been rescued by a dragon of yellow and gold. How it flew into the clearing, while they were surrounded by orcs and ready to die, shrieking and bellowing in great anger. It burned every orc to a crisp, sparing none from his wrath while still making sure that neither of the twins were hurt from his hot flames.

The dragon, once its task finished, landed before them, sniffed them each twice, before bowing his head to each of them and leaped back to the sky. The body of their mother laying on the side, spared from the flames as well.

Everyone murmured and wondered how such a thing came to be. The rumors stayed afloat for more than a century before quietly simmering down in the background. It stayed among the archives of tales told around a camp fire in the dark winter nights, but nothing more.

Elrond was glad, since he had two of the three rings in his possession. He would give back Nenya to his mother-in-law, since he had no need for it, once he got Narya from Mithrandir's grasp. The question was: how would he do it? It was not like he could go kill the Istari, for as soon as he would do it, he would be striked down by the Valar for such a crime.

So he thought and pondered and concocted many plans. It wasn't until he realized that his hand was resting on a small bag that he knew how he would get the Ring of Fire from the Grey Wizard, more commonly known as Gandalf the Grey.

That night, he burned the last and biggest of his scales into the fire. It was as big as his palm and of shiny-gold color too. The smoke was gold-grey as it towered to the moon and her retinue in the clear sky above. "I would like for you to invade the biggest and richest dwarf mountain and stay and guard its treasure. It is yours to do as you please," whispered Elrond to the smoke and cackling twigs.

The wind rustled in the trees as a dark shadow passed in front of the big white moon. Elrond smiled at the image he saw, before saying goodbye to his childhood friend.

The next morning, he was informed that Erebor had been invaded. Not, it was only a matter of time before he could steal Narya, the Ring of Fire, from Mithrandir.

He settled down on his throne, and waited patiently for the day to come.

**THE END**

**Notes**:

**Taken from the Sindarin-English dictionary I found on line. It may not be correct. **

_Lhûg_ = Sindarin for "Dragon" or "Serpent"

_Peredhels_ =Sindaring for "Half-Elven"

_Gwanûr_ = Sindarin for "Relative"

_Ion_ = Sindarin for "Son"

**Thoughts and opinions, please? A little review wouldn't be bad.**

_Fae_ = Sindarin for "Soul".


End file.
